


Little Friend

by Steveuschrist



Series: John and His Bat [4]
Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Minor Obsessive Behavior, No One Killed Anyone, Post-Episode 5, Self-Reflection, The Enemy Within, Vigilante Path
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steveuschrist/pseuds/Steveuschrist
Summary: John makes a new friend on patrol one night.





	Little Friend

John landed in the alley, right on Bruce’s tail. He stood up, running a hand through his spiked hair. It needed a trim. 

They were outside a warehouse that was the meeting spot for a drug circle, and Bruce pressed up against the wall, so John followed suit. 

“So, the meeting should be starting soon, right?” John asked softly above the rain.

“Right. We just lay low.” Bruce replied, and John smiled happily. Bruce’s voice changer still caught him off-guard on occasion, especially if Bruce had been speaking normally and he put on his cowl mid-sentence, or vice versa. 

“I’ll scout it out. Stay here?” Bruce asked, and John nodded. He didn’t mind being mostly backup for Bruce when they were on patrol together. It reflected their normal lives together. Usually at fundraisers Bruce still did most of the talking, while John just stood next to him for support. 

Then Bruce was off, and John still wondered how he was so silent with all that armor on. Maybe he just learned how to move certain ways in order to be stealthy. John was only silent because he weighed very little and didn’t wear armor. Bruce was heavier than him, a wall of muscle, and had very heavy armor on.

John’s thoughts about his partner’s physique were interrupted by a small noise, so small, that John almost didn’t hear it. He blinked, and his guard went up when he heard it again. He silently drew one of his purple guns, or Sleepers as he dubbed them, because they did put people to sleep. He was no killer, after all. 

He saw no threat in the alley, which confused him. He looked above, seeing nothing, and heard the noise again. He took a step forward, and when he heard the sound right by his leg he turned his Sleeper to the ground, pointing it directly at the source. 

His guard fell upon seeing where the noises came from. 

A small, teeny, tiny kitten looked up at him. Or at least, he was pretty sure it was a cat. He’d never seen a real one up close before, at least not that he could remember. 

The kitten meowed again, and John squatted next to it. He leaned over it, trying to protect it from the rain that was falling harder now. Its black and white fur was all over the place, clearly matted and dirty. John looked over to the side of the alley, making out a small box in the dim light. 

He stood and walked over to it, before picking it up and making out words on the side of the box.  
“‘Free’, huh?” He turned to the kitten, who had followed him over. The small creature simply let out another meow. 

John squatted again and held out his hand. The kitten sniffed it, then pushed its face against his palm. He carefully rubbed its head, and the kitten seemed very very pleased. 

John carefully picked it up in his hands, and it settled down into them quickly. He knew what he had to do. 

He had been like that kitten. Lost, forgotten. Throw into isolation for no reason. The kitten’s owners didn’t want it for whatever reason. Maybe they couldn’t keep it. Maybe they never wanted it to begin with.

John had always felt like that. He’d always wondered where he’d come from. If his parents just threw him into an adoption agency when he was young and left him there. His first memory was waking up one day, the lights of his room blinding him. He was young, then. He’d figured around 20 years old, but he wasn't sure. Arkham had no records of him, but Dr. Leland insisted that he’d been there for at least a few months and had been going through treatment. For what, he wasn’t sure, but his only memories involved him being stuck in a cage. He had lashed out a few times, crying and screaming, and they pumped him full of drugs, then threw him into a room with padded walls. 

After that, he became a model patient. He knew that clearly his outburst was considered bad behavior. He learned how to behave like a normal person. As normal as he could get. 

Other patients teased him for his hair color, and laughed at how pale he was. He didn’t respond to them, but it ate him up inside. He didn’t know why he was so pale. Why his hair was green. Why he was so sickly. He just knew that he existed.

Then, he caught his first glimpse of Bruce on TV. Bruce Wayne. A caring philanthropist that funded Arkham, or something like that. John honestly did fall for him when he first saw him. He seemed so bright, so ready to help. His hair was always perfect, and John could get lost in those eyes for hours. 

He still did. 

He clearly remembered the first time he talked with Dr. Leland about Bruce. He asked far too many questions, clearly. He wanted to know everything about Bruce. 

“Oh, Doc! I gotta tell ya about this guy! I saw him on the TV!” 

“John, are you referring to Bruce Wayne?”

“Yeah! You know him?”

“Everyone knows him. He’s done a lot of charity work. He’s put money into Arkham.” 

“Is he single???”

“John.. Mr. Wayne is a man of high status. He’s not married, but it’s fairly obvious he’s probably the biggest playboy in the country.” 

“But he’s single? Yes!!!” 

That’s when John started cutting out pictures of Bruce from magazines. He asked for any magazines that related to economics or Gotham, or even celebrity gossip and life, figuring that maybe Bruce would be featured in them. 

He shuddered as he slipped the kitten into his shirt pocket. Damn. He TOTALLY had been obsessed with Bruce. It didn’t even really register until now. 

Wow, maybe he had gone to Arkham for attachment issues? Or maybe he’d latched onto Bruce because of fear of abandonment somehow? John shook his head. That didn’t make sense, he’d never even met Bruce at that point. 

Or maybe it was the universe trying to push them together? 

He giggled to himself. Maybe it was! After all, he was pretty sure it was always his fate to end up with Bruce. Even when he tried to deny his feelings and tried to twist them into love for Harley. It really had always been Bruce. 

A feeling against his chest pulled him out of his thoughts. For a second he was worried. He felt a rumbling, and was wondering if the kitten was growling, but the kitten made no move to move from his shirt pocket. Then he remembered. 

Purring! The little thing was purring. It made John happy. 

He wondered if Bruce was a cat person. Did Bruce even have pets growing up? 

Soon he caught up to Bruce, who was glancing around the side of the warehouse. He looked over to John, recognizing his footsteps. 

“I told you to stay.” 

“I couldn't sit still. I'm sorry.” John frowned, having totally forgotten that Bruce told him to stay put. 

“It's fine.” Bruce replied softly. “A few members have gone inside. No cargo yet.” 

“So we stakeout for a bit?” John asked, and Bruce gave a slight nod. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the kitten meowed. Bruce went still, then looked over to John again. 

“Was… that you?” He tilted his head. John wasn't the biggest fan of thunderstorms, and in the middle of the night he would wake up Bruce sometimes when he was really upset. Bruce didn't mind. 

“Um… it was my little friend.” John replied. He stepped closer to Bruce and opened his jacket a bit, allowing for him to see into his pocket. Bruce’s eyes widened.  
“Is that...?” 

“A kitten. I found it in the alley.” John said. “You're not allergic, are you?” 

Bruce had a lot of questions. 

*** 

When they got back to the cave, John hopped out of the Batmobile and slipped the kitten out of his pocket. Bruce barely had gotten out before the small creature was shoved into his arms. 

“I'll go get a small blanket to dry them off!” John was already running to the elevator, almost tripping as he went. 

It took Bruce a moment to register what was happening. He blinked down at the kitten, and the kitten gave him a small meow. 

His gaze went over to his forearm, looking at the blood that was oozing from him. Oh, right. He'd gotten hurt in the fight. And of course, Al had to be off for the week. Lovely. 

John suddenly reappeared, blanket in his arms. “Aww, look! Bruce likes you, Bruce!” 

Bruce blinked. “U-uh, what?” 

“This little guy!” John carefully slipped the kitten out of Bruce’s arms into his own, and wrapped it up in the blanket. “He likes you!” 

“John… you're… not seriously calling the cat ‘Bruce’, are you?” Bruce asked, shedding his gauntlets with a huff. Damn, it stung. 

John grinned. “Of course I am!” 

“You can't.” He began to walk to medbay, and John trailed after him. 

“Why not?” 

“Because Bruce is my name!” Bruce actually chuckled, smiling over at John. “We can't have two Bruces in the same house!” 

“But.. but…” John tilted his head, actually thinking. Dang, Bruce was right. Having two Bruces would get really confusing. “Aw, butts.” 

Bruce gathered his usual supplies. “I appreciate the gesture. But it'll get confusing. And what if it's a girl?” 

John nodded slowly. “Yeah, you're right. I just…. hey, wait!” He expression turned grim, and he set the cat on the medbay table. “You're hurt!”

“Oh. Yeah.” Bruce said, and he poured disinfectant over the wound, hissing. “Not too bad.” 

“Not too bad?! Bruce, why didn't you say anything??” John asked, his voice rising. He even grabbed the tweezers, and before Bruce could react, John was ripping out the piece of shrapnel in his arm. He pressed clean gauze against it, his grip on Bruce very tight. “Stupid.. fucking…” 

“Hey, hey.” Bruce said softly, knowing that John was getting upset at himself. He didn’t want John to get upset. Mostly because it was fine, but partially because he wasn’t exactly being gentle with his wound. “It's ok. I'm fine.” 

“But what if you weren't?!” John snapped, his voice turning to how it had been at the funhouse.  
Bruce raised his other hand to trace John’s jawline, and John leaned into the touch, his face relaxing after a moment. 

“Trust me. I would've told you.” 

“I got so caught up with the cat..” John whined, returning to normal. “I wasn't even thinking about you..” 

Bruce dropped his hand. “Make it up to me. After you patch me up.” 

John raised his eyebrows, but nodded quickly. He bandaged Bruce up, making sure it wasn't too tight. 

Bruce shed the rest of the suit, and put his arm around John’s waist. John picked up their little friend, and leaned into Bruce as they made their way up to the manor. 

Bruce didn't have pets growing up, so he had no food for the little kitten. He did some quick searching, and did find out that they liked tuna juice, so he opened a can and poured the juice out for the little thing. It began to lap it up, and in the light of the kitchen it was easier to tell that the poor thing was clearly skin and bone. 

“Should we bathe it?” John asked, sitting up on the counter next to the cat. 

“Cats hate water, right?” Bruce asked. “I don't want to cause it any distress. I know they normally clean themselves, but this little guy’s fur is really dirty. Maybe just a warm washcloth to get some stuff off? I hope that's not being cruel.” 

John nodded in agreement, hoping down from the counter. “I don't think it is.” 

He grabbed a towel from the cabinet and went over to the sink, turning it on and letting the water warm up. 

“Sooooo… how exactly am I going to be repaying you?” 

Bruce blinked, then looked over at him. “Oh, I haven't really thought about it. And besides, I’m the only who didn't tell you I was hurt. So shouldn't I be repaying you?” 

John was silent, thinking hard. He soaked the towel and came back over to Bruce and the cat after shutting off the water. 

“It appears we've come to a stalemate.” John stated. 

“Well. We’ll think of something. We’re pretty smart.” 

John nodded, and began to run the cloth over the cat’s fur. It continued to drink the juice, not noticeably upset. John carefully worked at the fur, dirt and grime coming off onto the cloth. The kitten finished the juice and sat on the counter, meowing up at the two men. It tilted its head, in a way that reminded Bruce of John. 

John finished his work, and as soon as he walked over to the sink, the cat stepped over to Bruce and rubbed against his arm. Bruce held out his hand, and the cat face planted into his palm. He chuckled and rubbed its little head. 

“John, you made quite the impression on this little guy.” Bruce said. 

John blinked. “Maybe you’re just a natural cat magnet!” 

“I’m so glad that you used cat in that sentence.”

After washing off the cloth, John returned to Bruce. Their little friend seemed very content, snuggled up against Bruce’s hand. John looked down at it, smiling softly. It was adorable! So cute and fluffy! 

“We can take it to a vet or something tomorrow.” Bruce said softly, rubbing its chin. “We’ve done all we can at this hour.” 

John nodded, and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck. “Right. But it’s not THAT late.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at him. “Not for us, no, but if we’re going to do something interesting it’s best to do it while we’re both well-rested.”

John huffed. “Fine. But…” He took Bruce’s hand and put it on his waist, then slid it down farther. “You could at least give me a little preview…” 

Bruce considered his options for a moment, before pressing close to John. He moved so his lips were right against John’s ear. 

“Now, now. We both know that if I start anything you won’t be able to take me not finishing it.” 

John shivered at that, his arms around Bruce tightening. “Oh.. Bruce..” 

Bruce leaned down and kissed his neck gently. “Tomorrow. I’ll have thought of something by then. And we’ll have plenty of time to ourselves.” 

John hummed and nodded after a moment. Bruce squeezed his hip gently. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Maybe I can think of something for tomorrow, too!” John grinned at him, and Bruce returned the smile. 

“Right. We’ll get this little guy to a vet and go from there.” 

***

After a quick visit to a well-known veterinarian, it was discovered that their little friend was a male, and Bruce could tell from the look on John’s face that the idea of naming him Bruce crossed his mind again. 

Because the little guy was a stray, Bruce didn’t have to really fill out any paperwork, just a few official documents. The assistant came in with a tray of three shots, and John’s eyes widened. 

Bruce rubbed his shoulder. “They have to give them to him. For protection against stuff like rabies.” 

John nodded, holding his breath. “Oh, right. Sorry, they just reminded me of..” He trailed off, and decided that looking down would be best. 

“You should name him.” Bruce said. “It’s the last thing on the paperwork.” 

John blinked. Oh, a good cat name? He'd never named anything in his life, besides his Sleepers, that is. 

“What about.. Batsy! Batsy the Catsy!” 

Bruce’s eyes widened at that, and the vet assistant giggled. “I like it. Like Batman, right?”

“Right!” John grinned. “See?? She gets it!” He promptly took the pen from Bruce and scribbled down ‘Batsy’ in handwriting that even rivaled Bruce’s own chicken scratch. 

John skimmed the paper, and nodded. “Yup! Perfect!” 

The assistant had finished giving Batsy his vaccines, and John petted his head. “He’s so adorable!” 

“More adorable than me?”

“...Ok, he’s so adorable, and you’re like… super adorable.” 

“Sure, John. Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Twitter at @ SteveusChrist ! I'm currently open for requests if you guys like my universe and want to see something in particular!


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